Virus Edward
by Mike256bit
Summary: Edward's hacking days have caught up with her and are paying her back with quite a punch! What does this mean for the Bebop?
1. Zip!

Virus Edward  
Mike256bit [mike_256bit@hotmail.com]  
  
A Cowboy Bebop based fanfic.  
  
Disclaimer: I don' own Cowboy Bebop or its creations. I DO own a model of the Delorian from "Back to the Future: Part 2"  
  
Warning: Don't eat paste.  
  
My notes: Radical Edward is YEOW! She is killer -- just awesome. Inspired Mike to talk in third person, and Mike's developed a taste for shitake mushrooms.  
  
When you get to the "Cowboy Bebop", just think commercial break!  
  
My point is, don't get all bitchy if I do something a li'l bit, -- or a lotta bit -- differently. So from here on in, you know the deal. Title 17 of the copyright law applies -- I don't own Cowboy Bebop or its contingents, but I own the story. Don't rip me.  
  
Oh, and that, I love criticism, however: flames will be promptly and swiftly laughed at, severely stored in a separate file, and removed later without haste for further comic relief.  
  
I make up words so terriciously frequently.  
  
   
Wee! Blast off!!  
  
--  
  
Jesus, so much yelling.   
  
Still in his wrinkled mess of clothing from the day before, Spike flipped over onto his stomach, to what he figured would be a nice cool part of the bed, rather than the sweaty place he left back-down before rolling. However, his side met with the floor, feet still draped up over the edge of the couch. With only a slightly larger migraine than before, he looked up between the table and sofa, seeing Faye's deathly pale and tired face. Of course, granting that she was wearing a night shirt and barely anything else but the tightest underwear he'd ever seen, he could view a bit more than she probably would have liked him to -- had she been awake, that is.   
  
"Why won't she shut up," she muttered curtly, grinding her teeth. Spike scratched his head, realizing why the screaming seemed so loud.   
  
"Got me. Talk to her, it's her mouth." Turning onto his stomach, he sighed at the cool contact, forgetting the minor in between incident as he met with his prior goal. The screaming didn't seem like such a big deal once his hangover kicked back in.   
  
Faye turned her mouth up, narrowed eyes to accompany the sneer. Marching the short distance to her place behind the couch, Faye stopped, looking down at the rustle of red hair. Whatever she said was drowned out by another burst of vocal explosion.  
  
Faye, figuring it would be easier to see the cause rather than try to get it explained, snatched the goggles in one felt swoop.   
  
"Hey!"  
  
Ignoring her, Faye jammed them to her eyes, wincing as she did it a bit harder than she had planned to. It was difficult to control the ol' muscles when you've only had two hours of sleep. Drinking binges with Spike were officially out for the year.  
  
Her eyes focused, immediately resulting in a sigh. It was amazing as to how Edward's laughter could sound so much like a hyena's howl . . . "Ed," Faye grumbled, dropping the goggles back into the hacker's awaiting hands. "Stop looking up the old Theory of Relativity."  
  
Ed struggled to hold in her fit of giggles as she strapped the goggles back on. "But it's sooooooo funny!!" Her defenses failed her and she collapsed to her back in a torrent of laughter. Faye moaned silently, wallowing in the irony that she'd need to do a lot more drinking to get out of her alcohol induced insomnia.  
  
Spike popped an eye open, looking up as Faye passed. Noting only briefly the rise of her backside, he spoke: "Theory of Relativity again?"  
  
Faye turned before disappearing into the dark hallway. "What else?"  
  
  


Session --: Virus Edward  
  
  
The view screen flickered as Spike kicked the table in a small atomic explosion of rage. 'Bigshot' was one annoying show. "Another bounty we should'a had," he mumbled, biting a cigarette from the pack he held up to his mouth. He lit it, tossing his lighter across the room in a smaller after shock of anger.   
  
"Ow!" Ed yelped, rubbing her head. "What was that for?!"  
  
Spike didn't respond, only staring darkly at the amused grin on Jet's face. "This is funny to you?"  
  
"Very funny."  
  
"Kiss ass, Jet, kiss ass."  
  
"Well," the only slightly older fellow answered, leaning forward to readjusting the tabled console. "Maybe this'll teach you and Faye to chill it on the binges. We WOULD have had that bounty had you not been drunk off your ass."  
  
"It was her fault. She had the drinks," Spike said with a scowl, taking a quick drag. He sighed to himself, thinking about how the flavor was always lost when you did it fast.  
  
"Man, if you two hated each other any more I'd swear you were married." Jet smirked at the fiery look that lit up in Spike's eyes. "And," he continued prodding as the screen came back on. "If she lead you around any more, I'd swear you were whipped!"  
  
"It's drinking; I like to drink." Spike's lazy eyes dipped back down to the screen where the bounty from before still hung. "RGH!" Kicking the table again, Spike hopped up, tossing his cigarette to the floor as he stalked out of the room. Jet chuckled, calmly getting up to step on the cigarette.   
  
"That's how ships combust, ya dumbass!"  
  
"Go to hell!" Spike's voice rang back, followed quickly by a door slam. Jet sat back down, still laughing tiredly.   
  
"Spike-spike sounded maaaad."  
  
"Yeah, well Spike-spike needs to learn how to be responsible."  
  
Edward popped her head up over the backside of the couch, staring at the screen as 'Bigshot' shut off. "Why's he so angry?" She pointed to the screen, giving a brief wild flare to her hand. She curled them back to a fist, pointing with a single finger this time. "Edward means, the bad guy was caught! Justice prevails!" She bent her arm up at the elbow, pumping her fist." Hooray for the good guys!"  
  
"It's all about the money, Ed."  
  
"Oh. So Spike's greedy, too? Ed though only Faye-faye was THAT low. . ."  
  
Jet again chuckled; he had more tolerance for the young one than some of his colleagues did. "It doesn't quite work that way, Ed. We were tailing that guy for a while, and we had all the leads. So, logic says we should have had the bounty. But no one seems to remember lady contrivance when they're considering logical progression. Spike got his head so high in the drinkin' clouds that he couldn't tell a steel beam to the face from a flick to his nose. So, someone else got to the bounty ridin' our coat tails. Spike is just having a hard time realizing that it's his fault."  
  
Ed nodded and suddenly flipped up over the couch, landing next to Jet, with her head draped down near the floor. She waggled her feet over the edge of the sofa and looked shiningly up to Jet. "Lookit what Ed can do!" Bringing her hands to her mouth -- fingers out, -- she gave a heavy breath, a fart sound filling the air.  
  
Jet sighed, bringing his less organic hand to his forehead. "Why do I even talk?"   
  
Ed ceased her sounds, looking back up at Jet. "Ed's bored, Jet. Wanna surf the net with meeeeee?" She looked to him fondly, kicking her legs. She pushed her hands off the floor and kicked her legs forward, tumbling back to a sitting position with her back to Jet. Rolling her head back, she smiled. "Weeelll?"  
  
Jet shook his head. "Sorry Ed, I just wanna relax right now."  
  
"Okay!" Hopping back to her feet, she jumped over the couch, skidding to a stop in front of her computer. "Internet mcdinterfet! Time for Ed to do some scourin'!" In a snap her goggles were on and her fingers were flying. As soon as her auto search algorithm was set -- mostly containing search strings like 'cheese' and 'Now and Laters' -- she sat back as a myriad of screens flashed before her eyes.   
  
Watching her for only a moment, Jet turned back to the screen. He furrowed his brow as 'Bigshot' came back on. "Special update?" he mumbled, settling back into the worn couch. "Another new bounty for the week. . ."  
  
"Hehe. . ." Ed mumbled, leaning forward, as though trying to get a better look into her goggles.   
  
Jet gave no glance, staring at the screen. "ISSP targeters, eh? Handy with viruses. . . hey Ed!"  
  
Ed did not answer.  
  
"Ed?" Jet turned, looking to the now still figure. "Ed? I think we got one suited for your--"  
  
"EIIIIIIIII!!!!" Ed's limbs exploded outward as she, seemingly smoking from all points, fell back in a dead wake. "Uah. . . blamo. . ." The cord from her goggles pulled from her console, and the view in the eye-visors was on the screen. One of Ed's icons, with a particularly disparaged face bounced on the screen.  
  
"Ed!" Jet hopped over the couch, quickly sidling next to Ed's limp form. "Edward!" He slid his left hand under her head, cradling her as he lightly smacked her a few times. "Wake up, damnit!" He snatched the goggles off her head, reeling back a bit as he saw her tiny pupils. ". . . Ed?"  
  
  
The blur cleared, the three pillars around her focusing. "Oh, Ed can see!"  
  
Jet sighed, scratching his head. "How're you doing, Ed?" She looked around, seeing that she was on the couch. Jet stared at her from behind the armrest, giving her the faintest flush feeling as she stared back. Faye seemed disinterested, leaning on the back of the couch, as Spike sat nearby on the table he'd so despised.  
  
"Edward. . . needs her computer."  
  
"Wha'fer?" Spike inquired as Jet came back with her companion.  
  
"If, if it's what Ed thinks it is. . ." she rubbed her forehead, letting out a rush of air. "Then, then--"   
  
"Here ya go, Ed!" Jet leaned down to set the console on the table; causing Spike to scoot down. She quickly sat up, her goggles on before the computer tapped on the table. She typed furiously, a dispirited sneer appearing on her face. She shakily tapped another button, sighing at what was revealed.   
  
"Virus. . ." she mumbled, tugging her goggles down.  
  
"Yeah, so?" Faye muttered, looking down. "You know how to fix this stuff."  
  
"NO!" Ed jumped up, pulling her computer up and on its corner. "Virus EDWARD! EDWARD has the virus!!" Her breathing raced a bit as she covered her mouth, her eyes similar to the way Jet had found them. "Ed's been hit with a virus. . ."  
  
Faye, in her way of missing all the important details, still questioned. "So? I don't get it; fix your computer."  
  
Ed's eye twitched most uncharacteristically as she turned, again tugging the goggles from the computer. "NO!!!!! EDWARD'S BRAIN HAS A VIRUS!!" All three of the by standards exchanged glances, all realizing the implication and near impossibility of this.  
  
"You," Spike pointed, "have a computer virus?"  
  
"How would THAT work?" Jet asked, sitting down on the arm rest.  
  
"Well," Ed sighed, pulling her goggles up over her head. She ran a hand through her hair, dropping the goggles to the floor. "The brain IS a computer. It functions on the same basis as a microchip. There are exchanges of electrical impulses and switches that go on and off that function just like an NPU! Er, CPU, Ed meant to say. The only difference is that the brain operates on chemical exchanges, while MOST of today's computers still operate on hardware connections. There are only a handful of computers that act like the brain completely, working with chemical connections."  
  
"You mean, like, super huge databases have adopted chemical computers?" Spike leaned forward, intrigued. This, remotely, he thought, might mean a bounty.   
  
"Yup! Things like the ISSP database and the astrogate systems operate by these computers."  
  
"I heard about that," Jet mumbled. "One of my ISSP ties mentioned this software change. I was surprised, I figured information like this might be kept a bit tighter. Ya think?"  
  
Ed nodded. "Yeah, if it were unknown, normal viruses wouldn't be able to infect it. Chemical systems require chemically programmed virii."  
  
"So," Faye said, her attention grabbed. "A chemical system can only be infected by a chemical virus."  
  
"Right!"  
  
"So," Spike picked up, "you got a virus intended for one of these databases."  
  
"Cooorrrect! In fact, I know which database."  
  
"How?" Jet asked.  
  
Smiling almost sheepishly, Ed sat back. "Well, being the super genius Ed is, Ed figured that she didn't want to pay for internet access! So, Edward reasoned that hacking into one of the larger databases would go pretty well unnoticed. One day, Ed took it upon her self to root into the ISSP's internet protocol. . . hehe. . . so Edward gets all incoming information before the ISSP does."  
  
Jet's brain sparked as he looked to the dead screen of the telecommunicator. "The virus you got was headed for the ISSP?"  
  
Ed blushed and nodded. "Completely intercepted."  
  
"So what's it going to do to you?" Spike asked.  
  
Edward sighed, kicked her feet up on Spike's knee. He put his tongue in his cheek and slid his leg the side, making her feet fall back to the floor. She stuck her tongue out, taking a deep breath. "That Edward does not know. Ed can't access her brain with her computer!" She laughed girlishly, giving them a very 'duh' face. "I don't have a USB port in my face."

Spike shrugged when Faye looked at him strangely. "The hell's a USB port?"

"Awanoh."  
  
"Wait," Jet mumbled, idling with his fingers. "This reminds me of something. You guys remember Scratch?"

Spike whistled. "Unfortunately. That guy was crazy." He leveled his eyes to Faye for a moment, giving her a faint smile. "Of course, the day wasn't all bad."

Faye looked away with the trace of a blush.   
  
"Ed," Jet posed as Ein came into the room. "Could we maybe use the Brain Dream equipment that Scratch group did a while back?" Before Ed could answer, Ein gave a series of barks before leaving.   
  
"Absolutely Ein! If we had the system, Edward could definitely reverse the mechanism and view Ed's noggin!" Jet rolled his eyes and was again on his feet.  
  
"So is she gonna die?" Faye looked to Spike.  
  
"Bet you a quart of whiskey that she doesn't."  
  
"You're on!" She sneered, narrowing her eyes.  
  
"Uh, that's not really nice, you guys." Ed pouted a bit, slicing a finger below her chin.  
  
Spike shrugged. "Sorry Ed, didn't mean it--"  
  
"No! Ed wants in! Ed wants a li'l whiskey if she doesn't die." Spike gave one of the wriest looks he'd held since Faye had nearly fallen into the ship's engine.  
  
"Sounds good to me, Faye's the one who thinks you'll die."  
  
"I found it!" Jet exclaimed as he walked in, bouncing the visor on the box in his hands. Spike was forced off the table entirely and took a place next to Ed. Jet sat down on the other side of Ed, as she leaned forward, reorganizing a few of the necessary connections. She pulled on the visor and few silent moments passed.  
  
Spike was just drifting off as Ed suddenly exclaimed, pulling off the visor. "Ed knows what's going to happen!"  
  
Jet looked over, peering at the multitude of codes displayed across the screen. "What's the low down, Ed?"  
  
"Well, the ISSP computer frame utilizes optical receivers. They act just like eyes, so coding becomes extremely specific. After all, no two sets of eyes see in exactly the same patterns. This means color omissions and stuff, and thus, limits the registering of certain wavelengths. Well, certain optic receivers have these certain wavelength calibration. Only the ISSP's are one of a kind, and this virus is meant for those. Edward's optic receivers transfer the data and coding a little differently. The virus was meant to pretty much make the ISSP go blamo!"  
  
"YES!" Faye exclaimed. "I'M GETTING WHISKEY!!" All glanced at her, two particularly disdainful.  
  
"Any. . . how. . . because of Ed's eyes being different, the codes no longer call for a total melt down. . . rather. . . the virus in Edward's brain will onlllllyyyy make Edward a biiitt moorrrre. . . let's say, eccentric. . ." The pause was deafening.  
  
"Even. . ." Spike stumbled.  
  
". . . More. . ." Faye swallowed.  
  
". . . Wild?" Jet asked numbly as they all turned to look at her.  
  
She flashed them an innocent smile, a sheepish laugh snaking through. Ein returned to the fray and glanced at the three entranced crew members. Edward scratched her head as Ein barked twice, then whining a particularly long whine.   
  
Cowboy Bebop.


	2. Zap!

-Virus Edward  
-Mike256bit [mike_256bit@hotmail.com]  
  
A Cowboy Bebop based fanfic.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop or its creations. I DO own Karl Marx.  
  
Warning: Don't own Karl Marx.  
  
My notes: This is part two of 'Virus Edward'. You should have read the first chapter to be here. You didn't?! MA! GET THE GUNS!  
  
  
Addendum to music:   
-"Hungarian Rhapsody 02" Franz Liszt  
-"Concerto for four violins in B major" Antonio Vivaldi  
  
--  
  
Cowboy Bebop.  
  
  
Jet tapped the telecommunicator, the screen popping, then fizzling back to life. "I think I got the guys who sent the virus, Ed." He pulled the screen to a tilt, everyone gathering around to see.  
  
"Let Edward see! Zoom zoom in my brain, Edward says they did!" She slipped forward, practically sitting on Jet's lap as her eyes scrambled over the screen. "Oo. . ." she rescanned, but shook her head. "Nu-uh. They don't know the system well enough to program a virus capable of running through the ISSP connections. It had to be someone from the inside."  
  
"You mean," Jet muttered, scooting over a bit, "one of the heads of the ISSP is commissioning this?"  
  
"Or one of the programmers," Spike distantly tossed in, eyes never leaving the back of Ed's head. He was waiting for the moment she would either explode or. . . possibly implode. He quickly turned to Faye, poking her in my arm. "I want my whiskey."  
  
"Hey! She still might die!"   
  
"That's a bit of morbid wishful thinking, eh Faye?"  
  
She huffed, turning back to the screen. "Shut up, Spike."  
  
Edward cleared her throat, bouncing a bit on the cushion of the sofa. "Ed thinks Jet should get back in contact with the ISSP. Edward thinks you might have been told for a reason."  
  
"Like a set-up?" he gruffly asked, suspiciously eying the characters on the screen.   
  
"Maaaaybe! Or maybe someone just told the wrong person. It's possibly that a whole level of the ISSP is in on degenerating the system."  
  
"Ow!" The two on the couch turned to Spike who was rubbing his cheek disdainfully. Faye stalked away, a definite ire to a walk. He shrugged, plucking a cigarette from seemingly nowhere. "I guess I poked her too hard." He kicked on a heel, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'mma head to bed. I suggest we set course for ISSP headquarters." He chuckled as he walked away, the click of his boots echoing over the bridge. "I knew I smelled bounty."   
  
He disappeared up a set of stairs as Jet turned back to Edward, who sat idly on the edge of the couch. "Think we should take his advice?"  
  
Ed nodded, kicking her feet a bit. "Edward thinks so."  
  
There was a moment of silence as Ed wobbled from side to side, staring vapidly into space. "Ed? How ya feeling?"  
  
She shrugged, running her hands under her arms; first left then right, as if checking for bullet wounds. "Edward doesn't feel it yet. . . " Suddenly she shouted a garble of sounds and jumped nimbly up on the edge of the couch. "RRRRRAAAOOOWWWWWLLL!!!!" The howl gave Jet about fifteen heart attacks and scared Ein from the room.  
  
Gapping for breath, he peered at her cautiously. "Feelin' it now?"  
  
She quickly shot a look at him, staring hard. Then her face softened as she smiled a sweet, kawaii type grin. "Nope! Edward's still fine!" Back flipping off the edge of the couch, Ed scampered off running backwards, her hands outstretched. "Yaah-woa-woa-woa!-OMPH!" There was a clang as Ed ran into a wall, bouncing forward to fall on her stomach.  
  
Jet cringed, staring with concern over the back of the sofa. ". . . Ed?" She hopped up, flashing him an OK sign, and bolted from the room. Her playfully gleeful cries hung in the air as he turned back to settle on the couch. Sighing, he languidly pulled at his beard. "How will we be able to tell?"  
  
--  
  
Spike poked his head into the bridge, rubbing his eyes. Not being dressed made him cranky these days; relaxing in his undershorts and shirt did nothing to sooth him anymore. "Who is God's name is banging on the ship?!" The clangs were everywhere and were very frequent. Jet looked up, nursing a cup of coffee. He waved him over, taking a sip of the murky brew. In groggily passing a corridor, he saw Ed ram herself into a wall repeatedly.   
  
"Oh, alright." Spike continued on, walking around the sofa to sit on the table. Looking in Ed's direction and then at Jet, he queried: "Virus kicked in?"  
  
Jet chuckled, shaking his head. "Nope, she still says she feels normal. Only REAL change is that she hasn't slept."  
  
"What's so abnormal about that? I've never seen Ed sleepin'."  
  
"She sleeps when she gets tired. And she gets tired from runnin' about like a maniac. But she hasn't slept after literally bouncing off the walls in the gearshop for say. . . the last five hours. Even THAT would tire her out. She's been walking into that wall for the last hour now. When I tried to stop her, she insisted that it was good for the heart. Due to her recent outburst, I didn't really want to touch her."  
  
Spike shook his head, rubbing his tired eyes. "This will be so much hell."  
  
"I think I figured out what the deal is with the ISSP." Spike looked up, nodding. "Well, there's been a lot of tension between the Syndicates lately. Interconnections and a shitload of double-cross. Every time the ISSP tries to get involved hell tends to break loose. Now the ISSP is just lookin' for a reason to take out about half the universe, at least, the Syndicate universe, but they can't overstep bounds lest they become the bad guys."  
  
Spike furrowed a brow, peering at the screen behind him. Tapping the faces, he spoke. "Those bounty heads can't be part of a syndicate. Anyone who gets a bounty on them gets killed by their own kind."  
  
"Unless you're related to the head of said people! I did a hell of a lot of digging -- these two 'ringleaders' are the sons of the two biggest Syndicate leaders in a conglomerate agreement."  
  
"No way they programmed that virus, though."  
  
"Absolutely. It WAS internally programmed. But it was supplied to these two." There was a pause of clangs, each as violent as the one proceeding.  
  
"So, the ISSP's got its reason. Virus, espionage, total degeneration and total warfare."  
  
"Yup. The heads of the ISSP have been under reforms, but I hadn't suspected it to be based in bribery."  
  
"You mean that conglomerate is sanctioning this?"  
  
"They've got the most power --they'd have more after that virus hit."  
  
"Hey," Spike mumbled. "We have one thing to be concerned with: the bounty heads."  
  
"Agreed. After all, Ed intercepted that virus, so the warfare wont even happen."  
  
Spike snorted, standing. "You don't think they'll try again?" Before Jet could answer, the bridge was filled with the patter of mad feet. Spike turned seeing a flurry of red hair swarm around the room.   
  
"ZIGGY-ZOOOOOOMMMM!!" Edward's agile running took a skip and she suddenly curled into a ball, rolling dangerously fast into the back of the couch. It groaned and moved forward when she slammed into it, both her and the couch silent.   
  
Spike glanced back to Jet, an amused grin on his face. "And you're sure that virus hasn't kicked in?" Jet shrugged as Edward finally hopped up, standing still behind the couch. She zipped her head around, silence filling the void for a few moments, when suddenly she shouted.  
  
"OOWWWWW!!" She was again silenced as her gaze focused on Spike. For some reason, a pang of fear struck his heart.  
  
He had good reason. Zipping in a flash, Edward was up on his shoulders, kicking off and forcing him to his stomach. "Hey!-Umph!" Spike landed with a wince, the wind knocked clean away. "Jet--" He was cut short when a set of feet were on his back, the heels digging in slightly; he could only pray.  
  
They weren't answered. Edward began to shout his name, emphasizing each with a sharp jump on his back. "Spikey, Spikey, Spikey!" Each "Spike" was just that: like a stab to his spine, ribs, buttocks and stomach.  
  
Grunting on each thrust of pain, he spoke through clenched teeth. "Jet. Do her the fortune of getting her off me before I alleviate that virus for her." Without needing second prompting, Jet was behind Ed, hands clamped on her arms.   
  
"Alright, Ed, let's take a break." She wriggling in his grasp, whining as she was lifted. "But Ed wants to PLAAAAYYY!!" She began swinging her legs, somehow building the momentum to flip up and a seat herself on his shoulders. He was startled for a moment, more so when her teeth clamped down upon his shoulder.  
  
"Ed," he slowly began, her gnawing only irritating his robotic arm slightly, "stop that."  
  
She shook her head violently, still trying to bite the tough polymer of his arm. "Ed hungry wungry hungry Ed!" She dug her feet into his back, causing him to step forward a bit in a brief tip of pain. Spike was just getting up, rubbing his sore back and frontal regions. Jet was about to kindly request that Ed remove herself once more, when she suddenly fell away.  
  
  
"You drugged her?" Spike asked, pressing the coldpack to his back and discreetly wiggling his backside on the similar compress on which he sat.   
  
"No," Faye sneered, switching her gaze to the snoring figure on the couch. Jet felt Ed's forehead, a bit of a concerned look on his face. Faye snorted, sitting up. "Cut it out! I didn't give her a FEVER, Jet." He looked up but did not reply.  
  
"You drugged her, Faye. Now THAT's low." Spike grappled for another cigarette, but moving his arms irritated his bruised insides.  
  
"I did not! It was nail polish remover. Works just like chloroform."  
  
"Yeah," Jet huffed, again feeling Edward's forehead. "And it's more lethal and potent."  
  
She sneered again, looking at Jet. "Thanks for the gratitude. Prick."  
  
"AAAHHHHH!!" Spike hopped to the side of his compress, bringing his inflamed arms up to shield his face when Ed jerked like a lightning bolt, sitting up quickly. Immediately he responded to Faye's amused look.  
  
"It wasn't me screaming."  
  
Ed's head zipped around, Jet tentatively reaching down to feel her forehead yet again. "Feelin' better, Ed?--"  
  
"TOO MANY POTATOES!" He pulled his hand back as her teeth gnashed, Spike again preparing himself to cover his face. She turned to the other direction, however, and again scampered off into the reaches of the Bebop.  
  
Faye scratched her head as two sets of eyes fell on her disapprovingly. "What? It's the virus!"  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm sure you killed about half her brain with that nail polish stunt."  
  
Jet sat where Ed once was, rubbing his tired eyes. "We've got to get that virus reversed or SOMETHING."  
  
"I think we should concentrate on the bounty," Faye interjected, scratching her chin thoughtfully. "I mean, surely we can put up with her being like that for a LITTLE while."  
  
Spike met her with a dead stare before answering. "We'll no doubt need her to GET the bounty, though. So we have to get her fixed first."  
  
"I dunno, she seems sound-minded SOMETIMES, perhaps we can get this bounty before we fix her." As if to cue Jet's suggestion, there was a loud whine from Edward's computer. "Eh?"   
  
"It's something about a waiting message," Spike observed, the pain finally beginning to drain out of him. "Ed said that she intercepted the last virus. Do you think this could be it again?"  
  
Jet nodded as Faye rudely pushed Spike to the side so she could get a better look at the screen. "I'll. . ." he paused, brow furrowing a bit. When the sound of 'green is yummy!' filtered in his brain, his eyes widened as he ran from the room. "MY BONSAI!"  
  
  
Jet streaked to a halt, nearly tearing slices in the flooring. He ripped the door open frantically, its ajar state alerting him of a previous entry. Peering in, he was horrified to see Ed sit in the corner, gnawing loudly on one of his best trimmed trees. While relieved she hadn't touched the others, the very thought wracked his mind. It was a simple joy in his life indeed, but it sure meant a lot to him.  
  
"Edward!!"  
  
She looked up, letting a leaf hang on her lips. "Hi! Edward's saving day from monster zucchini!" She tossed the tree up, clapping her hands. Jet grimaced, watching it sail through the air. It felt like a 'save the day moment' as he rushed forth, almost knowing that it would land in his outstretched hands.  
  
Only in the story books, Jet.  
  
Instead, he stopped a foot short, the plant crashing down on Edward's head. She rattled like a clanged bell, arms and legs vibrating as the plant tipped forward and then into Jet's hands. He quickly placed it on a table, reasoning that he could worry about it later as he hefted Edward to her feet. "You alright?"  
  
She looked up to him, one eyelid hanging lazily as the other eye tried to focus on him. "Edward f. . . whoooaaa . . ." She fell back into Jet's hands as he set her straight again.   
  
His thoughts raced, balancing the fact that this would settle her down, and the fact that she's probably been so brain damaged today that she'd be dead by tomorrow. At least Faye would get something out of it.  
  
Jet could remember the one thing that got Ed going. "Say, Edward, wanna go reverse some virus programmin's?" Both her eyes shot open as she nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"Fun Ed likes to have! Let's go!!" 'Vrooming', she raced out of Jet's grasp and towards the bridge. Jet followed, wondering if it was time to invest in a door lock and maybe a child psychology book.  
  
  
"Mail for Edward! Fun fun, Ed says!" The wild child sat as Jet entered the room, praying silently that she wouldn't sporadically flip out and break her computer or something. Spike, now out of the boxer-and-undershirt set that came with his waking up, sat casually suited next to Edward. Wary, yes, but much more couth about it.  
  
"Oh!" Ed yelped, scrambling to put her goggles on. "It's the Blamo-Edward virus! Iiiiiiiit's time for Ed to shiiiiiine!"   
  
"That sounds discouraging," Faye laughed in a matter-o-factly manner.  
  
"For the virus senders," Spike finished scooting a bit away from Ed. He wrenched his cigarettes from his sleeve, biting the last one.  
  
A fury of typing quickly commenced, Edward rewarding the room with a bright smile. "Targeted and virused! Ed caught them in their own ship! All the Beep-beep-bebop has to do is pick 'em up."  
  
Spike leaned back, sighing out a puff of smoke from his idle cigarette. "Great. And the virus?"  
  
Ed turned, scratching her head. "Virus? Aha! Ed found that it was benign!" She grinned, tapping her chin. "Purely psychosomatic!"  
  
Spike, nearly dropping the cigarette, turned to Jet and then Faye. The stares were returned as Ein entered, giving a bark.  
  
--  
  
"Let Edward out! Ed wants her whiskey!!"   
  
Spike, turning from the bolt lock on the bathroom door, shrugged and set a small glass on the floor. Pouring a bit from the quart, he walked back to the bridge.  
  
After he left, Ein walked by, sniffing the air. Moving to the glass he pulled in the scent, lapping up the alcohol.  
  
"SPPIIIIIKKEEE!"  
  
  
Jet tapped the base of his beloved bonsai, sighing at the crack in the pot. The ship rumbled as it took off, leaving the bounty station. He traced the crack with his finger, then tapped the table once.   
  
The ISSP would have some explaining to do; he could get the information and he would. But then again, Spike was right: all they were in it for was the bounty. The virus senders were a small step; perhaps it was time the ISSP degenerated on someone else's terms.  
  
  
The frazzle-haired jack-of-all-trades plopped down on the couch, looking up to Faye as he lazily tipped the quart. "Drink, Faye?" He grinned, setting out some shot glasses. "It's on me."  
  
  
  
  
  
Get wasted, space cowboy.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ai! Hmm, looks like there's a subplot in there SOMEWHERE. M'thinks there's something to continue. . . hmm. . . (Which yes, it has. 'Mars Fusion' is the next installment.)


End file.
